Eye to Eye
by glindalupin
Summary: COTP fic. Danny helps Mac to grieve after Flack's injury brings up old wounds, deeper than flesh. MacDanny MacCorporalWhitney are mentioned. T for language and sexual references. Characters belong to CSI NY.


A/N ok, I'm in an RV in DC (with crappy internet access, but at least I have some), after having typed this the whole trip, so here it is! I really wanted a better ending, at least when it came to Danny leaving because that confused me when his best friend is in the hospital. And of _course_, I had to add a MacDanny spin on it. This is kinda angsty, and even though it is a Danny perspective, it's Mac!angst. And this is NOWHERE near as long as Think or as in depth, but I have the right words and names and dates and such. It's PG-13 for language and very brief sexual references. All characters and other such business belong to CBS. Enjoy!

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It was a simple hand motion, in all honesty. Thumb and forefinger pinched together to form a circle, leaving the rest of the hand open to the observer. It proclaimed that the owner of the hand was alright, or the situation was alright. Whatever it applied to, it meant it was _alright_.

But sitting in the driver's seat of his car, Danny Messer knew everything was _not_ alright. And he knew even more that the person who gave him the signal was anything but alright. He sighed, thinking back to the scene at the hospital.

_Danny, Lindsay, and Sheldon stepped in the hallway to find Mac and Stella seated across from Flack's room. Danny, afraid for his friend, immediately looked to the window. He _couldn't_ lose another. He let Hawkes ask the question he feared, the one that was gurgling in the back of his mind and in the pit of his stomach. "He's looking up?"_

_Danny turned and swallowed carefully. When Stella spoke, he focused instead on Mac. He knew these few days had to be wearing down on him. They never got to talk about it because neither had been home for the last few days, too busy catching the bomber. But Danny was still audibly tuned in to Stella, clutching onto every word. "Yeah, uh, his neurological eval is set for tomorrow." She paused, so Danny looked over at her, noticing the clasped hands and set grimace of a smile. "There's room for _cautious _optimism."_

Fuck… that doesn't sound good…_ Danny turned back to look at Don. _Not again… not after Aiden._ Emotions tore through Danny's chest, and he struggled not to display them on his face or in his posture. He barely heard what Sheldon was saying about medicine being the equal of "cautious optimism" or whatever he wasn't really concerned about. The only thing he could focus on was his fear._

_His fear for Flack and the returning panic he felt when he first heard of the bombing, thinking the worst for both. Danny shoved the thought forcefully away and tried to be grateful things didn't get worse. For Flack… Or for Mac._

Mac…_ Danny turned back just as Stella was directing her next sentiment to him or Lindsay; he couldn't be sure. "You know, he's on round the clock care. We don't all have to stay and watch." Danny sighed, looking back at Don quickly. The sight of the machines, which seemed to dwarf his usually large body, frightened Danny even further. It was a fight to keep the emotions from seething over._

_But a frown from Mac, directed at the floor silenced these discomforts for a moment. His voice came out, distant and almost scolding. "We don't _have_ to."_

_The insinuation was clear to all, Stella heading to get him a coffee and Sheldon to check in with the neurologist. That left him and Lindsay to give Mac a peace of mind, which he needed. Danny knew from many near-arguments they'd had over a particularly hard and trying case when Mac needed his alone time to mull over the results. It happened with Stella's incident and Aiden's death._

_Add that in with the fact Danny was already close to the breaking point around Flack in his weakened state, it was less than difficult for him to make the decision. He turned to Lindsay and feigned a smile. "Well, still want that ride?" Danny wasn't trying to be overtly friendly; he was already spoken for. He was just concerned, looking at the still healing cut on her forehead._

_Lindsay smiled back, not realizing that his wasn't genuine in the sense it was hoping for a relationship. He always felt guilty when he remembered she harbored feelings for him and Mac because, whichever one it was, her feelings wouldn't and couldn't be reciprocated. "Yeah, sure." She turned to Mac, reminding Danny of his still seated form. "Good night, Mac."_

_He gave the smallest of waves and an even smaller smile. Danny noted it was a smile similar to his earlier one; one that didn't reach the eyes. It was a simple use of facial muscles, nothing more. It saddened him to see Mac like this, but something in Mac's stare pleaded with him not to say anything. Danny swallowed. "Call if anything changes, alright?" _Or if you need me to be with you…_ Danny knew Mac wouldn't call for the latter, however. He'd come home and try to act as if he didn't need any comfort, and it would take ages for Danny to get him to open up again. But he'd do anything to get rid of the sadness settled too well into Mac. He worked too hard to remove it over the last year, finally getting to the point at which Mac could initiate physical contact without his help._

_Danny's thoughts were pierced when Mac gave him the A-OK signal. _Alright… _He gave Mac one last half-smile and turned to lead Lindsay out, trying to push out conflicting thoughts and emotions._

Emotions that now poured over, causing Danny to grip the steering wheel tight enough to make his knuckles go white. He had already dropped Lindsay off at her place; he even walked her to the door and gave her a subdued goodnight, much to her confusion. Which left Danny alone in the car to think everything over. _Great…_

Danny made a left, not really paying attention to where he was going. All he could think about was the past scene in the hospital. _Something just ain't right…_ For a brief second, he thought of those puzzles in which one has to find the object that doesn't fit the rest, but it fleetingly stole away. Nothing seemed to be out of order, at least to an untrained eye. But to Danny, something was very, _very_ wrong.

Danny was starting to get pissed, cutting someone off abruptly as he made a lane change. "Oh, fuck off; it's New York…" His mind forced upon Mac's reactions. They were, all in all, very quiet but intense. _In fact… oh shit…_ Danny instantly remembered how Mac didn't even say anything when he and Lindsay left. _Oh shit, that's it…_

The young CSI was drawn back into the memories of arguments and times when Mac was so far gone that he couldn't express himself verbally. He remembered, though not intentionally, of Aiden's case and how Mac play fought with him; it was the only way he could relieve his stress: physically. It also happened after extremely unnerving days, when Mac would come home and nestle into a disquieting solitude, glaring at the floor. Danny would often open their door to find him like that and know instantly what was going on and what he had to do. It took a few forceful kisses to get Mac to surrender to Danny, needing urgently to be taken. And Danny would do it, knowing full well that's what Mac needed from him.

Which was happening now, and he had given Mac the space he thought he needed. But he knew he had made the wrong assumption. And he knew even more so that he had to get to Mac quickly before he lost Mac. To what, he didn't know and didn't ever want to know.

Danny quickly redirected his route, cutting off more people, many of whom flipped him off, but he didn't care. It took nearly an hour to get back to the hospital from where he was, and each passing second filled him with increasing dread. But finally, he saw the flashing lights of an ambulance that lit up the name of the hospital. _Thank God…_

The actions of unbuckling his belt, getting out of the car, locking the car, and flying through the doors melded into one incoherent memory. He checked back in quickly and found his way back to the room he was at only an hour or two before. Looking through the glass, Danny panicked because Mac wasn't there. _Oh shit…_

Danny walked through the doors, listening with fear to the rough bang as they closed. Looking around, he realized that Stella was also missing. _Maybe she convinced him to leave… No… He wouldn't leave… Would he?_

Now surging with adrenaline, Danny looked with anticipation around, finally resting his eyes upon Flack's room. _Oh God…_

If it had been any other situation other than this, Danny may have been jealous. But he was better than that. He crept closer to the door and watched. Mac had Flack's hand in his and was saying something. Mac tightened the grip on Flack and spoke again. Danny focused upon the contact and saw something that filled him with hope.

Flack's hand gripped weakly onto Mac's.

_Thank you, God…_ Danny felt surprised at his accidental acknowledgement of the deity he had shunned long ago. But a sudden movement in the corner of his eye clued him back in. Mac's head dipped down, and he blinked slowly. Danny's heart felt as if someone had squeezed it cruelly because he knew Mac was close to losing it.

He opened the door softly and poked his head in, knowing this was the time to act and provide comfort that he alone could provide. When Mac heard him, he smiled gently. "Hey Mac."

The green eyes stared back at him, forming a mixture of surprise and grief. "I thought you were going home…"

Danny bit his lip, choosing to talk about that later, and walked closer to the bed where his best friend lay. He took the hand that Mac had been holding within his own and gave it a squeeze before laying it back down. Mac watched him, both silent for that brief moment.

The blonde then turned to Mac. "How ya holding up, Mac?" He brushed his hand against his lover's, and it felt cold to his touch. Mac's hand twitched nervously before it slowly opened and allowed Danny to hold it. _Good…_

Mac kept his eyes averted, focused on Flack. Danny knew he was trying to avoid him, but he kept quiet, waiting for Mac's reply. It was small and throaty, the voice of someone trying to keep from crying. "I'm fine…"

"Bullshit."

Mac turned and glared at Danny, as if daring him to disagree again. Danny sighed and squeezed Mac's hand gently. "Come on, Mac. You can't fool me, not anymore. This is really upsetting you. I… I just wish you'd talk to me."

The green eyes looked away again, and as Danny had seen before, they were hidden briefly by a surreptitious blink. Mac's whole body seemed to shrivel before Danny's gaze, and he sank slowly into the chair beside Flack's bedside. Danny knelt beside him, still grasping Mac's hand tightly.

Mac finally brought himself to look firmly at Danny, and somehow, his voice grew stronger. "I… I just can't help but think about Beirut."

Danny frowned. He had seen the scar plenty of times before; hell, he touched it or brushed against it every time they'd had sex. He'd ask, and all Mac would ever say was that it was an old wound from Beirut. That left Danny to wonder if it somehow connected with what was going through Mac's mind. _As he so often says, 'Everything is connected.'_

"Beirut?" he queried, hoping it would entice Mac to go on.

Entice it did, however sluggishly. It took a few moments before Mac worked up the nerve to speak again, resting his eyes upon Danny's face. He bit his lip before he spoke. "I… I was serving at Beirut, as you know, in 1983. On gate sentry on October 23. And I was talking with Corporal Stan Whitney at 6:22 AM when all hell literally breaks loose. I… I was injured from the shrapnel, as… as you've seen before." Mac paused and inhaled sharply, and Danny continued to listen intently. "I look over, and Corporal Whitney… Stan… Well, he'd been hit pretty much the same way Flack was."

Both men instinctively looked to their comrade, seemingly relieved to see his chest rise and fall with every breath. Their eyes eventually found each other once again, but Mac's had significantly changed in their gaze. It was hollow and looked just as his hand felt. Dead.

Danny shuddered but urged Mac on, knowing the older man needed to let out what he'd been suppressing. "What happened, Mac?"

The eyes looked down. "He was… he was pretty bad when I got to him. I did exactly what I did with Flack. Tied the severed artery and told him to hang on. I… I grabbed his hand and asked him to squeeze my hand, but…" Danny knew the result and frowned in sympathy, tightening his grip on Mac. Mac looked back at Danny and smiled sadly. "He died in my arms, Danny… And I couldn't do anything for him… He just died, and I couldn't… God damn it."

Mac pulled his hand out of Danny's grip, wiping quickly at his eyes. He looked upwards and blinked a few times. A few obstinate tears managed to weasel their way from his eyes, so he laughed mirthlessly. "I'm a real mess, aren't I?"

"No, you're not." Danny, his hand freed, reached up and wiped away the tears that Mac had missed, finally settling his hand at the nape of Mac's neck. The reach made him uncomfortable, but that was the last thing on his mind. "You're not a mess, alright?"

Mac looked at Flack and gestured wildly, making Danny aware that he was severely distressed and losing control of his emotions. "But, if he ends up… Ends up like _Stan…_" Mac could barely choke out his name, but he continued, "If he ends up like him, I don't… I don't…" He stopped speaking and looked back at Danny with a strange look in his eyes.

Danny tried to read it, and it took him a while to understand, but when he did, it jabbed at him like a knife. "You… You had feelings for Corporal Whitney, didn't you?"

Laughter pealed out into the room, bitter and frustrated. "Feelings? Oh, I guess you could say that… I mean if you kiss a guy, you must have feelings, right? I guess if you feel so scared that you push him away and refuse to talk about it ever again. Or if he dies in your arms before you ever get to say you're sorry, and when you see the scar you think of him every time? Would that mean you have feelings? Can _you _tell me that, Danny?" He had stood up during the rant, pacing the hospital room with an increasing sense of urgency with each word.

Danny was now concerned, rising slowly and fearfully. He had never seen Mac take this reaction before; all of them had been submissive, depressed cries for help. Never had they been angry, at least not after having been so quiet and unnerved. Actually, now that he thought about it, even the fact that Mac had revealed what he had was out of character. Danny was unsure what to do and how to adjust, steeling himself when Mac rounded on him and directed his tirade towards him.

He watched as Mac approached him and stood within Danny's comfort zone. Just as Danny was about to croak out an astonished stammer, a nurse appeared at the door. Danny felt relieved, even if she looked like she wanted blood. "Excuse me, but if you want to stay in the room with the detective, you'll need to keep your voices down."

Mac spun around and ran a hand through his hair nervously. "I… I'm sorry, ma'am. I just… I just got a little upset. It won't happen again." From behind Mac, Danny couldn't be sure, but he was pretty confident that part of what Mac was saying was directed to him.

The nurse tittered and shut the door with swift silence. Mac continued to face the door, seemingly in thought. Danny was hesitant to act, completely worried about this completely uncharacteristic in his grief. But ultimately, he couldn't help but run his hand up Mac's arm and gently rub his neck in a soothing pattern. "Hey…" he whispered, "Do you mean it?"

"Mean what, Danny?" Mac grasped Danny's hand tightly and turned to face him slowly and inquisitively. The light had not come back into his eyes, as far as Danny could tell, but they seemed even more apologetic than they usually were.

The eyes pierced through him, and Danny was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to sleep well for the next few nights, but for the moment, he was able to fully address his concern. "Are you really not going to let yourself get like that again?"

Mac drew in a breath softly and bit his lip forcefully. "Danny… I can't. I just can't go through this again. Not like this. I'm _afraid_ that I'll get too angry and…"

"And?"

"And do something really stupid, like take it out on you." Mac sighed feebly and stared at the floor, ashamed.

The eyes had been redirected, but Danny was surprisingly not thankful to be out of their haunting gaze. With his free hand, he cupped Mac's chin and lifted it so he could see him eye to eye. But Danny could feel the tears slipping through his fingers before he could see them. His heart wrenched when the redness glared at him, even if the green eyes weren't.

"Hey. Look at me." The eyes languidly made their way to full contact. "Do you think I'd care if you got angry? Hell, I wouldn't mind if you threw punches! Because you have to get through this, any possible way you can. And if that means you wanna talk, then talk. If you wanna hurt me, then do it. I don't care how you do it, just that I be a part of it to help you through it. Alright? Because we're gonna get through this. You and me."

Mac nodded weakly and abruptly stepped towards Danny, wrapping himself within Danny's arms, who was taken by surprise by the suddenness. He held him tightly, nonetheless. Mac was silent, and Danny could feel the tears on Mac's cheek against his neck. His brain buzzed with brief confusion, but he settled into contentment because he knew Mac was taking another step forward, as he done when he talked out the problem. _Maybe he's going back to the way things were before Claire… before she died._

He felt a hand clench his jacket at his back and heard a ragged inhale, the first sound he'd heard from Mac in minutes. The hand stayed at his back even when Mac moved away. Danny didn't know if it was polite to look into Mac's eyes again, but they were too far into their relationship to bother with formalities.

He noted the tears streaks with the last of the drops plunging from Mac's chin to the floor. Looking further up, he saw that the permanent bags were darker and puffier. Danny finally looked into his lover's eyes and saw him staring back. But there was a small, enlightening glimmer of something embedded into the far reaches of the emerald pools.

From that, Danny knew that wherever they went from there, Mac would eventually be allowed the grievance he had denied himself for over twenty-two years. And Danny knew that Mac would want him there with him from start to end. And Danny _knew_ that he didn't want to be anywhere else, from start to end.

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A/N What did you think? I hope you liked it, and I'll have you know there is a MacDanny C2 that you all can join if you want. I'd appreciate it and any reviews you might wanna bestow upon me. Thank you for your time! 


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